Read Zombie Fighter Jango #1 The Road to Hell Is Paved With Zombies for Free Online Page B

rack of shirts by the front door, and grabbed a tee shirt that said “Guns Kill People Like Pencils Make Grammatical Errors.”
    “Pure class,” he smiled as he put the shirt on and replaced his backpack on his back. Jango then grabbed a one-gallon water container and a one-quart water container, and headed back to the women’s restroom.
    He kicked the door open, shouting “LAWLESS!” again as he did. Jango locked the door, and quickly filled the large container by filling the smaller container and dumping it into the larger until it was filled, then refilling the smaller container. When he finished, he put the larger container in the bottom of his backpack, and re-packed the jerky around it and on top of it.
    As he exited the restroom, he heard a rustling noise from a closed office across the hall. He froze in place, straining his ears for any other sounds. He heard another rustle, like clothing against the floor at the bottom of the door.
    Jango didn’t want to leave any threats to sneak up behind him as he left, so he took a deep breath, and kicked the door just beside the doorknob. The door burst in with a rending and cracking noise as the doorjamb disintegrated.
    The door stopped as it hit something solid when it was about halfway open. “Owfuck,” squeaked a female voice from behind the door.
    He didn’t know much about Zombies, but he was pretty sure they didn’t say things like “Owfuck,” when doors slammed into them.
    He couldn’t care less about female company as it pertained to sex or relationships, but he had a crude code of chivalry that precluded the idea of killing a defenseless woman, or even leaving her to be killed. Maybe Jango would get lucky and she would want to stay there. That thought made him feel a tiny bit better, so he said, “Uh, hey, I’m not going to hurt you.” Then he quickly added, “Unless you fuck with me, then I will burn your ass down and piss in the ashes.”
    Jango believed that every person would take any kindness from him as a weakness, and they would try to take everything that he had. He figured it was just better to let people know up front. His explanations never really came across as reasonably as he believed they did, quite the contrary; it really put people off and scared them. He didn’t like to threaten women, but these were exceptional circumstances, and he didn’t know if she was alone or not.
    “Come out with your hands where I can see them,” he said with a barely suppressed giggle, “We have the place surrounded.” He laughed out loud at his own wit.
    “Do you promise you won’t hurt me?” asked the mystery woman behind the door in a small, quivery voice.
    “If I was a bad guy, I would just tell you that I promise not to hurt you, then hurt you any way,” he responded in the tone a teacher has when explaining something to a child. Then he added in an angry tone, “Who the fuck are you that I should promise you anything?”
    “You sound like a prick,” she shot back at Jango, “Just a stupid prick.”
    He cracked up laughing at her reply. A long, insane belly laugh that sounded eerily similar to the laugh of Renfield in the old Dracula movie.
    “Mwa-ah-ah-ah-ah, hee-hee-ha-ha,” he laughed for several minutes, until finally, with tears in his eyes he said, “Fine, I promise I won’t hurt you unless you fuck with me and try to take my shit. If you do, then I will twist your head off and hide it in a bush somewhere.” He finished in a reasonable tone.
    “Fine,” she said, and peeked around the door at Jango.
    She crawled out from behind the door, and stood up. He saw that the woman was about his own height, with a slim, muscular build like many martial artists got from long practice on a heavy-bag and from sparring. Her hair was light brown and it framed a delicate, elfin face. Her nose had a slight kink in it on the bridge, as if it had been broken at least once. All in all, Jango thought she looked okay.
    He glanced at her hands, and